


Salt of the Earth

by k_marli



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2016-2017 NHL Season, Buffalo Sabres, Gen, and how Sam's mere presence makes it better, it's mostly a drabble about Jack being salty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10595760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k_marli/pseuds/k_marli
Summary: The Dead Sea is the saltiest place on earth, next to Jack Eichel's bitch ass.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Look. Idk where this came from. I legit woke up a few hours ago to an ESPN notification about Jack's salty af exit interview and how he missed out on bonuses and then I wrote this in a daze. Excuse any mistakes as this was written literally minutes ago. 
> 
> Oh and before I go. Shameless plug for my other fic "Working Title: we dem [soft] boyz",it features Auston feeling all types of ways about another Leafs' rookie AND a good ole' Ontario boy currently getting sunburnt in the desert.

Fuck a redemption arc.

Jack doesn’t want that shit. 

What he wants is his fucking bonus. 

**Dylan: For what? You would’ve just spent it on shitty hats and ugly jeans**

What he needs is better friends. 

**Dylan: Your petty ass can barely keep the friends you have let alone make new ones**

Before Jack can come up with a devastating clapback, he gets a new text from Auston. 

**Auston: So what would you like your GoFundMe page to be titled?**

That’s it. Jack’s fucking done for the day. 

He tosses his phone onto the couch and makes his way to the kitchen to dig out the tub of rocky road he knows Sam has hidden in the back of the freezer. 

“You fucking liar, you have been eating my ice cream.” Sam’s voice startles Jack just as he’s about five spoonfuls deep. For a split second Jack feels something like guilt or shame bubble up - and it’s probably more to do with what he said during his exit interview than the melting ice cream cradled in his arms. That’s the one bad thing about having been as vague as he was. In dodging the media’s attempt at dragging names out of him, Jack inadvertently put his whole team on blast, Sam included. And of all the people that don’t deserve that shit, it’s Sam. 

But as he stares back at Sam and the slightly bemused look on his face, all Jack can think is  _ fuck apologies.  _

He’s not sorry. 

“I’m not sorry” he snaps out before shoving another spoonful of Rocky Road into his mouth. 

Mistake. 

Jack winces as he tries to ride the painful feeling of brain freeze. 

“Bet you’re sorry now” Sam chirps as he hops onto the counter next to Jack, snatching the ice cream tub from his grip. 

“It was worth it though” Jack says softly after the silence grew long. 

And it was. There was something cathartic about finally speaking out about the dead-eyed stares of some of his teammates, about how some legit just acted as though they were at a 9-to-5, clocking in and clocking out, passing the time til payday. Dragging down the team with mediocrity. Dragging Jack down with mediocrity. 

For weeks after coming back from injury, Jack just excused it as the team being off-kilter, having to readjust to Jack back in the lineup, shitty puckluck, bad scheduling, anything, everything, until there were no more excuses that Jack could be fucked to come up with. 

Once Jack finally pulled his head from the ground he fought to keep his mouth shut, biting his tongue during pressers as much as he could, keeping his most snarky comments to himself. Not wanting to stir shit in the locker room meant he mostly kept his back to his team, eyes on the buffalo and crossed sabres printed on his nameplate, mouth in a thin line that never really eased up until he was sitting on the couch at home, watching shitty reality shows with Sam. 

Jack has never been a locker room guy, he’s allergic to captaincies, breaks out into hives just thinking about having a letter stitched onto his jersey. He knows where his strengths lie, and motivational speeches aren’t one of them. Jack leaves everything on the ice, so there’s nothing left to give off of it. 

But now there’s no more ice so Jack had to bare his soul somewhere else.

“To be honest,” Sam’s soft voice is loud in the silent room “I wish I could have said what you did.” 

Sam picks at the ice cream tub, digging out the little marshmallows from the chocolate, his chin nearly tucked into his chest, eyes hidden behind his tousled hair. Jack stares at his profile, eyes tracing the way Sam’s adam’s apple bobbles. 

“I’ve been worried that if I had said anything, it’d be like I’m speaking it into existence” Sam’s head tilts a bit, his eyes catching Jack’s for a moment before turning back to the melting ice cream. “But mostly, I didn’t want to say anything since it’d be a bit hypocritical and all.”  

Jack scoffs at that, “fuck that, Sammy you’re no scrub to be benched for dumb shit. Dumb shit that wasn’t even your fault.” 

Sam sighs and jabs at the tub with vicious little stabs, “but I’m responsible for my actions and I’m not above getting disciplined.”

“Yeah, with like a bag skate on an off day or something, not dressing you and sitting you on the bench for a whole fucking game.” Jack jumps off the counter and turns to face Sam, arms coming down on either side of his legs, boxing him in and forcing Sam to look up. 

“They’re fucking up Sam, not us, not you.” Jack tries to get Sam to look at him but Sam just stares past his ear. 

Jack hates it when people look past him. He grips Sam’s chin and turns his face fully towards him. 

“Look at me” Jack says harshly. 

He can feel Sam’s rapid heartbeat where Jack’s knuckles are brushing lightly against Sam’s throat. 

“I am looking” Sam whispers, eyes dark and focused on Jack, “I’m always looking.” 

Jack can feel the air leave his lungs and he can feel the blush beginning to heat up his ears. 

“Good” Jack hears himself murmur as he leans into Sam’s space, who spreads his legs wider on the counter, giving Jack room to step in closer. 

Jack hesitates just as he’s pulling Sam’s head down towards him. He steals a quick glance at Sam’s half lidded gaze and wonders if this is the wrong time to start this, whatever this is.

Before Jack could lean in or back up Sam speaks, “don’t be sorry after we do this.” 

Jack smirks and tightens his grip on Sam’s chin. 

“Yeah, like I’m ever sorry” Jack chirps before pulling Sam’s mouth to his. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh and I was originally gonna name this "fuck being on some chill shit" but I thought it best to keep my Drake references to myself.
> 
> Slide into my comments babes, promise I won't leave you on read.


End file.
